Fallout
by lysjelonken
Summary: After being tortured by Sidirov, Deeks has, inevitably, drastically changed. Six months later, Deeks is back at work, thanks in part to some strings pulled by Hetty. Kensi faces the fallout of "the incident" in the most personal way. How will she deal with the New Deeks? Can she still love him? Can he still love her? Densi multichap
1. Chapter 1

**Fallout **

**Hey guys! Based on the overwhelmingly positive response to my first oneshot after a long time on hiatus, Lost Chances, I've decided to take the chance and start up a multichap fic again. I'm hoping that the inspiration-train will keep rolling, and that I'll be able to finish it before I go back to school. Anyway, a big thank you to all of those who read and reviewed Lost Chances and contributed to me regaining my sea legs and gaining enough confidence to want to take on another project. You are my heroes **

**Plot: After being tortured by Sidirov, Deeks has, inevitably, drastically changed. Six months later, Deeks is back at work, thanks in part to some strings pulled by Hetty. Kensi faces the fallout of "**_**the incident**_**" in the most personal way. How will she deal with the New Deeks? Can she still love him? Can **_**he **_**still love **_**her**_**?**

**Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. Just borrowing**

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_He lay so perfectly still in his hospital bed that every time she looked at him she almost had to do a double-take. He didn't look like Deeks._

_Firstly, well, because the swelling of his jaw and mouth kind of distorted his face, and there were long scars all over his chest, making him literally look unlike himself. She knew that will go down, though. The physical scars will fade. In not too long, he'll be as annoyingly and unexpectedly beautiful as he always was. _

_The second reason was because in all the years that they've worked together, Kensi had never seen Marty Deeks lie still for such a long time. Even the time he'd been shot. He'd been out for a couple of hours then, and she'd worried by his bedside, but then he woke up and was immediately back to his old self – joking and teasing… It had been three days now. Three days of sitting beside his bedside, grasping his hand, terrified. The doctors were full of explanations as to why he wasn't waking up; his body was in shock… She couldn't be bothered to try and decode their babbling, not with her partner lying still before her, and so many questions as to what was going to happen next plaguing her mind. Deeks had kissed on her on the hilltop; she had felt his sweet, soft lips on hers, communicating oh-so-efficiently all the feelings she had been so scared of. So, naturally, she ran. In hindsight, the worst thing she could have ever done. Because now, only a handful of days post-kiss, she was sitting in his hospital room and hating herself for possibly forever losing the opportunity to tell him how she really felt…_

_She looked down at his face now; even with the swelling and the scars and everything, he looked kind of peaceful lying this still. But she knew there will be no peace for him when he wakes up. Nate had come to talk to her a couple of days ago. He had sensitively, in his usual way, probed her as to what she thought was going to happen after Deeks woke up. She had told him what she'd told everyone that had come to visit him and asked her the same question: she was his partner. She was his friend. She wasn't going to abandon him, no matter what happened. She was going to support him and love him and do whatever it took to help him get through this. Yes, she knew what she was getting into. She had dealt with PTSD before. No, it was going to be different this time. She's different now. Deeks is different – _so _different. He was going to be just fine, and she was going to be just fine. And silently (never out loud), _they _were going to be perfectly fine._

_She would never have told Nate, of anyone else for that matter. But in the many hours she had spent by his bedside, mulling over everything that's happened and worrying over what will happen next, she had allowed herself a few precious moments to fantasize. What if Deeks, in that magical way of his of doing exactly the opposite of what she and the world expected, was okay when he woke up? What if he let everyone help him, and let her help her, and was okay? And he'd still love her, and she'd tell him she loves him like she should have when he kissed her on the hill; they'd kiss and he'd make the world seem bright and beautiful again. They'll retire from this stupid job that almost took away the only thing she held dear, get a little house by the sea with a big yard, and have lots of crazy ninja mutant assassin babies with bright blue eyes, and brown hair, and crooked smiles…_

_A stirring caused Kensi to be startled out of her daydream. Just a stir – his hand in hers, trembling a little. She looked at their hands, up at his face, back down again… Her eyes quickly darted to the call button by his bed, but it was too far away without letting his hand go and she was unwilling to do so at that particular moment. _

"_Deeks?" She whispered, tentatively._

_No reply. She sighed, feeling the heavy disappointment weigh down on her chest. She must've imagined it…_

_But when a long, pained groan sounded through the room, Kensi jumped up from her seat – this was real. He was waking up. After three days, he was waking up. She wanted to yell for help, but her voice didn't seem to work. When Deeks let out another dragged-out noise of pain, she startled a bit, and willed herself to let go of his hand, and slammed down on the call button. _

_Nurses swooped in only moments later. They spoke in decisive, high-pitched, nonsensical sounds, and Kensi could only back up against the wall and watch as they pressed buttons and plugged things and paged people. One young nurse gently touched her forearm and told her that the doctor was on his way to check Deeks up and that she'd better wait in the waiting room. She sedatedly nodded and let the woman lead her away to the door. She looked back once before she exited, and caught a glimpse of wild, bright blue eyes, now open and searching the room frantically._

X

_Six months later_

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Silence was her reply; an angry silence, she knew. He hated it when she asked stuff like that, or referred to "_the incident_" at all. But she had to; she couldn't not ask.

"I mean… I know you feel fine and everything, but six months is extraordinarily _soon _to go back to work after… Are you sure you don't want to take just a little while longer off?"

"Kens." His voice was hard now. It's been hard like this all six months since he'd woken up. It's one of the defining features that distinct New Deeks from Old Deeks. "I've jumped through all the hoops, 'kay? I've taken the psych evaluations; I've talked about my feelings more in these last months than probably in the whole sum of the rest of my life. Hetty thinks I'm good to go back to work. So I'm good to go back to work."

If this was Old Deeks, she'd have playfully rolled her eyes and said something sarcastic about how he charmed and/or guilt-tripped Hetty into pulling strings to get him back on her service. She had always had a soft spot for their blonde liason, and his temporary substitute, a pale-faced, dark-haired agent from Nebraska, annoyed her more than a little. Besides, after almost quitting for the utmost time (and being coaxed into staying only by her and Callen's insistence and begging), Kensi knew the diminutive woman blamed herself more than a little for allowing Deeks to go in alone. Just like she herself felt responsible for not having his back. Not being his partner in the moment he needed a partner most.

If this was Old Deeks, she'd be brave enough to say those things. But New Deeks was very different to Old Deeks. New Deeks was prone to volatile outbursts at the mention of "_the incident_", walking out and disappearing for hours at a time until she relented and had his phone traced, and found him in some dive, smelling of whiskey and cigarettes. New Deeks also said a lot more cruel things than Old Deeks… But all this Kensi forgave instantly, because she knew it was his way of coping with the unspeakable things that he must have endured, tied to that chair in the dusty interior of Sidirov's hideout. She forgave him because, different as he was, he was still Deeks. _Her _Deeks. And damn it, even if he would never admit it, he sorely needed her as much as she needed him.

So instead of saying all those things she was burning to say, she nodded silently and looked down at her hands; they were intertwined with his, their fingers forming a tangle. Deeks' one hand untangled from hers, and she felt him lift up her chin with one finger so that she was looking into his eyes; they have softened now, and he smiled at her. Another distinction: New Deeks' smiles never seemed to reach his eyes, like Old Deeks' did. Still, it was moments like this that she felt there was still a little bit of the man she knew left. And, inevitably, she felt the corners of her mouth twitch upwards and a smile appear, and the words "I believe in you" spilled out of her mouth as a soft, sweet whisper.

He kissed her then. And no matter what Deeks she was dealing with, he was still a pretty amazing kisser. His lips were still as wonderfully soft as they were before, and they pressed against hers with the same gentle insistence, making her heart flutter like a teenager's, and awakening some distinctly adult feelings within her. So she felt herself melt into it, responding eagerly and kissing back with equal fervour until she felt him pull away from her some moments later.

"I should probably run through the shower. Don't want to be late for my first day back." He pulled back the sheets and slid out of his bed, heading towards the en-suite bathroom. She lay a while longer until the bed went cold, listening to the sound of her lover in the shower and trying very hard not to think about anything at all.

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**So there's the first chapter. I kind of just wanted to set up what's happening here. Please let me know what you guys think!**

**Much love, Zanny**


	2. Chapter 2

**Fallout: Chapter 2**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles, any of its characters or anything else related to the series.**

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A hush seemed to spread through the halls as they walked towards their desks in the bullpen. Kensi felt the overwhelming need to reach out her hand and intertwine her fingers with her partners'; but she knew that such an action would, firstly, not be received too well, and secondly, completely blow the top off what was technically supposed to be a secret relationship. The looks she was receiving – the eyes darting from her to Deeks and back – told her what she already knew. That well… Everybody knew.

If Deeks noticed the stares and the silence – and there was no way that he could not – he didn't let on. He just kept walking, staring straight ahead, occasionally sipping on his cup of coffee. New Deeks had taken to drinking straight black espresso instead of the flavoured, sugarless funky drinks he used to. And she was pretty sure she had tasted nicotine in his kiss once or twice. He had changed the subject when she asked and, as she did with most things these days, she didn't press him. She told herself she would if (when) it became a regular habit, rather than an occasional thing.

When they walked into the bullpen, the team was waiting for them. They probably wanted to welcome Deeks back, but also didn't want to make a big deal about it and freak him out – the result was an exceptionally awkward display that made Kensi want to drag herself back into the Hallway of Stares. Sam, who had come back to work only a month before, already sat at his desk across from Callen. The two rose simultaneously from their desks as if to greet them. Except they both seemed to think twice, and paused. For a moment, all Deeks could do was stand there and watch the pair stand and stare and be awkward, and all Kensi could do was stare at Deeks. This until an excited screech broke the silence.

Kensi's eyes were already rigged on Deeks, so she caught the way he startled at the sound, despite how quickly he composed himself afterwards. She caught the slight, but nonetheless violent, shake of his shoulders, and the widening of his eyes, before he steeled his posture his expression. The yell had come from Nell, who ran down the steps and greeted Deeks with a hug.

"Deeks! Welcome back! We missed you _so _much!"

In that moment, Kensi wished she had talked to Nell beforehand.

Old Deeks would no doubt have laughed at her overzealous greeting, hugged her back, possibly spun her around or tickled her or something childish and wonderful, and made some smart comment. But New Deeks stood stiff as a scarecrow, his expression schooled from recovering from his overreaction moments before.

"Uh… Hi Nell." He finally uttered, with the slightest of a forced smile. "Hi guys." A chorus of greetings ensued. "Look, I just want to get back to work, okay? No big deal. Okay?"

Nell broke her hug. She sheepishly stood back.

A few long moments passed with everyone just standing there, not knowing what to say, until Deeks nodded, walked back to his old desk, placed his messenger bag on top and started to unpack his things. The team followed in suit, and Nell and Eric back up to Ops.

"So…" Sam ventured finally. "You're back on active duty?"

"Desk duty for now. Just a formality, really. I'm fine."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, about to give a speech about there not being any shame in taking a desk job for a while or something of the sort, but Kensi caught his eye and subtly shook her head to stop him. She knew it had to be killing him. Since Sidirov, Sam had been struggling. His own injuries had been minor, but the psychological effects were a very different story. She had asked Nate about Sam's status a couple of times; the little he could mention painted a picture of a pained, guilt-ridden man haunted by nightmares. She knew that Sam must be aching to speak to Deeks and apologize. But in the six months since Deeks had woken up, the talk just hadn't happened yet.

Deeks kept his head down and didn't seem to be interested in any more pleasantries, and thankfully the team seamlessly took the hint and got to work.

There wasn't a new or active case to work on, and Kensi was happy in a way. She knew Deeks' paperwork had piled up in his absence, and the man famously hated paperwork with the deepest of passions. Being desk-bound had to sting in principle. At least now he didn't have it do it alone.

She had her own work to do; however, Kensi found herself unable to concentrate on the tedious work, with too many thoughts and emotions tumbling around in her head and taking precedence.

Her mind flew back to the day she had taken Deeks home from the hospital.

X

"_You don't have to do this." He crossed his arms. He was sitting in the passenger seat of her car, with a less-than-happy expression on his face. His jawline was still pretty swollen and black and blue, but much better than it was originally and he could speak normally again. And he had gotten the missing teeth replaced by dental implants._

"_Yeah, I kind of do. If you want to go home, you need to have someone take you. Stay with you."_

"_I'm fine."_

"_I know." She suppressed the desire to roll her eyes. He hadn't reacted too well when she did last time. "I know you're fine. But the doctors have you on some hectic pain meds and they don't want you home alone if you're gonna be all hopped up and loopy. And-…" She looked up and tried to meet his eyes, but he avoided her gaze expertly. "I want to, okay? I know you say you're fine. But… I couldn't have your back before. Let me have your back now at least? Please? If only to humour me."_

_He didn't reply to that, but his face softened the slightest bit and he didn't argue anymore. _

_She pulled up into his driveway and went round to get her go-back from the trunk. He stared at the back with narrowed eyes, but said nothing. He was dead against the prospect of having her stay with him when the doctor first proposed the idea. He waited for her and she opened the door with her spare key, the same one she had been using all the while he had been in the hospital to get Monty and send him to his "sitter", replace the groceries and prepare his couch for her to sleep on. And – thought she'll never admit - sleep in his bed the few nights he had insisted she go home, that he wanted to be alone. She found it easier to sleep in his sheets that held his scent, than her own cold bed. _

"_Monty's at his usual place." She said. He nodded. "I placed him under my name this time though. I didn't know which alias you were using. And I got groceries. Mostly microwavable stuff, and a lot of ready-made soups for… you know. Figured you might not feel up to cooking and I if I were to try making anything from scratch…" _

_She figured that'd at least get a chuckle._

_Deeks plopped himself down on the couch and let out a long sigh. The silence was killing her, so Kensi grasped at the one strand of familiarity she could find within the scene:_

"_Movie?"_

_They were watching a mild independent film from Deeks' collection. She hadn't seen it; not even when it was his choice on one of their movie nights. She wasn't really concentrating on it now either. Instead she was watching Deeks out of the corner of her eye, sipping cream of chicken soup from a mug with his eyes glued to the screen. Her mind racing with questions and overwhelming emotions and a fantasy of blue-eyed babies that she should have gotten out of her head by now…_

"_Stop staring at me." He said._

_She blinked. "Not staring."_

"_Yeah, you are. Sideways glance still counts as staring." It wasn't much, but it kind of counted as banter?_

_He placed his mug down and drew a breath. "Look, Kens. Uh…"_

_She locked eyes with him now, mismatched brown and a haunted, duller blue. But still blue, and stil so beautiful. _

"_Kens, I guess I just wanna say… thanks. Thanks for not pushing me. And… thanks for this. This is nice. This is… what I needed I guess."_

_She smiled, thankful that the low lights hid the blush that was definitely spreading across her cheeks. _

"_Anything, partner." She reached out her hand tentatively and placed it over his. It had been a tentative and docile move, but a move nonetheless. And though she hadn't expected it, he took it as a cue and responded. He leant in and kissed her. It was fiery and intense and physical, and unlike the other kisses they had before; there was none of the gentle, rattling emotion that had touched her so before. But the kiss certainly had her shaking…_

_He pressed her down against the cushions of his couch, and Kensi was completely lost after that._

X

They had been sleeping together ever since; pretty much every night, except on low days when he requested a night alone. Yes, initially she had argued and told him they should stop it; she was supposed to be the sensible one here. She was supposed to take care of him, and make sure that he only made decisions that were in his best interests, given his volatile state. She knew, for both their sake's, that she should have ended their new romance the moment it began. But Deeks refused to discuss it when she brought it up. He'd evade questions and confrontations with excuses, or harsh words, or by walking away. And in the end, every night ended up the same way. They just couldn't stay apart. Right now she was just trying to make the best of it – if finding comfort in her arms was helping him cope then who was she to deny him that? She'd be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying it. It was a comforting reassurance. He was _here, _and in the smallest, most non-committal way he was _hers._

Now they were at this weird half-relationship place. In public, New Deeks would make sure that there's always plenty of distance between them; his words were cool, his gaze was distant. But in private, in those moments when it was just him and her, seeking solace together, she saw glimpses of Old Deeks - in the tug of a lopsided smile on his lips, in a rare glint of mischievousness in his eye and in the way his hands were warm and rough and everywhere. Those moments kept her going. They reminded her that this was just Deeks' way of processing his trauma and that one day – one day soon, she prayed – she'd find him well again.

After a morning of trying to force herself to concentrate on dull paperwork, Kensi jumped at the opportunity for some fresh air and a change of scenery by volunteering to go get lunch.

"Keep me company?" She asked Deeks as she stood by his desk.

He was seemingly engrossed in the context of his IN-pile and barely spared her a glance when he answered. "Not really hungry. Think I'll skip lunch."

She stalled. "You have to eat, Deeks." In a hushed tone. "We can go get your favourite at that funky hipster food truck by the pier? You can get that way-too-expensive sandwich whose name I can't pronounce?"

"I'll go." Callen replied in Deeks' place, standing up and picking up his wallet and ID to go. Although less than happy with this arrangement (she had hoped to coax another half-smile from him and maybe a spontaneous kiss somewhere in the mix), Kensi nodded and walked off to the car with Callen in tow. There was no arguing with Deeks when he got like this. She'd get him his favourite lunch, but she's willing to bet that he won't take more than two bites of it.

As she drove off towards the pier, she couldn't help but realize how much the New Deeks kind of reminded her of herself. At least, the version of herself she had been sporting these last couple of years, before _this _all happened. Before she was forever changed by facing the unspeakable fear of possibly losing the person you love more than anyone else. New Deeks was like that scathed version of herself. At all times he had sky-high, impenetrable walls up, masking his emotions and ensuring a safe distance between herself and everyone else. Overuse (and misuse) of the word "fine"... It made her feel sorry that she had made him deal with that. How much time could they have saved if she had given in to her feelings and let him in earlier in their partnership? Where would they be if she hadn't been so wary of letting people get close to her? Would they have gotten together? Would they still be together?

At least the symmetry between herself and New Deeks gave Kensi some hope. She had experienced herself that, if worked at long enough with enough love and dedication, those walls can be broken down. Hers have, not long ago, by a blonde surfer boy who was smarter than he let on and not as charming as he thought…

X

Back in the bullpen, Deeks was still silently working. In the desk next to him, Sam was struggling to find the right words for the conversation he had long avoided but sorely needed to have.

"Deeks-…" He started. "Deeks, we need to talk."

Deeks stalled and looked up at his teammate. "We don't need to talk, Sam. I already know what you're gonna say. I don't blame you, okay? What happened in there… it was my choice. It was my decision to go in without backup; it was my decision to… Whatever. I don't blame you for any of it, and you shouldn't blame yourself. Can we leave it there?"

But Sam wouldn't leave it there. He had been struggling with this all six months, imagining and re-imagining this conversation. He had to get it out. He had to apologize for saying those things to him; he had to thank him for his strength and loyalty, for protecting his wife and placing his own life in jeopardy. "Okay, yes, but could you just listen to-…"

"Just drop it, man. What's done is done." Deeks' words were harsher than Sam had ever heard, but still he pressed on.

"But it's not, I-…"

Before Sam could finish his sentence, Deeks had risen up from his chair with an unfamiliar, violent energy and strode off out of the bullpen. Startled by the uncharacteristic rashness of Deeks' actions, and much affected by the opened wounds and the liaison's unwillingness to grant him proper closure, Sam did not run after him.

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**Okaaay… So there's chapter 2. I hope it answered some of the questions you guys raised in the reviews. As to the question of flashbacks: yes, I am planning to use flashbacks as a tool throughout the fic. I know there's a lot of mystery as to what happened in the six months in between Deeks waking up and going back to work, but I promise those gaps will be filled! Please let me know what you guys are thinking – good, bad, whatever. And if any of you have any ideas related to plot of things you want in here, please let me know. Some of the greatest twists I've had in my fics come from suggestions from reviewers. And though I've got a rough idea of where I want this fic to go and what I want to happen, it's always nice to have fresh ideas and opinions to put some meat on the bones. **

**Much love, **

**Zanny**


	3. Chapter 3

**Fallout: Chapter 3**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, you guys! I really do appreciate all your feedback and support!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine**

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Kensi was angry. No, no – she was _livid_.

She and Callen had come back to the bullpen to find Sam alone. Apparently Sam had tried to strike up a conversation that Deeks wasn't keen to have, resulting in him storming out. After an hour and a half of waiting for him to return and give them all the silent treatment for the rest of the day, his oddly-spiced turkey burger was cold and Kensi was realizing that he wasn't coming back today.

She understood Sam's desire to make peace after all that's happened, but she was fuming over the result of his hasty actions. Did he not see that, despite the hard exterior, Deeks was fragile right now? Vulnerable…

She checked the clock for the umpteenth time since arriving back. She wondered if Hetty would pardon her the rest of the day to go looking for him? She just couldn't concentrate on the already painful paperwork, knowing that Deeks was out there somewhere alone, getting into all kinds of trouble… Her mind kept flashing back to the last time he went completely off her radar.

X

_Four months ago…_

_They were a couple of months into their new arrangement – long enough for her to have gotten used to sleeping next to his warm body, but not quite long enough for her to have gotten used to what was going on in this strange new reality of theirs. Maybe she never quite would get used to it. _

_It was a bright morning; the kind of morning where the sun shone through his curtains happy and yellow, and made everything seem a little bit better. It was the kind of morning where, she'd be willing to bet, Deeks would've been out on the beach since before sunrise, surfing his morning away and arriving very, very late to work. _

_Old Deeks would've, at least. She had remind herself from time to time. The man whose chest was rising and falling at the steady pace of sleep beneath her cheek, whose heartbeat was beating next to her ear, was a very different man. Still, she still saw glimpses of him from time. On beautiful morning like this, when they were alone and together and helping each other forget._

"_Morning." He was awake. His voice was gruff, and a long yawn followed shortly. He kissed her forehead and his lips were warm and soft and wonderful against her skin._

"_Morning to you to." She craned her neck so his kiss caught her lips and she was lost for a couple of minutes. She hummed happily against his neck when their kiss broke and her finger traced the lines of the scars on his chest. The round, twisted marks of his gunshot wounds on his chest and by his ribs; a long one by his hip from some childhood accident he won't tell her about; and several short ones, by his ribs, where he had been kicked there. Those were redder, uglier. Newer. _

"_Why don't you go surfing today?" The words were out there before she could stop herself, and she nearly cringed when she felt her lover's posture stiffen beneath her. She got a non-committal grunt as reply. Any other morning she'd accept his attempt to avoid the subject, and change it. But after a hesitation, she continued. "I mean… you haven't really done anything… normal… in all this time." He was completely unmoving now and she felt his pulse getting quicker beneath her ear; she'd made it worst. "Not that you-… I mean, you don't go surfing, you barely regard Monty, you don't go out… The only time you leave the house is to go on one of your marathon-runs."_

_It was true. After Monty had been returned home from his sitter, a couple of days after Deeks' homecoming, the intelligent mutt intuitively sensed his owner's new melancholy mood, and thankfully tempered his excitement at their reunion. But Deeks' mood hadn't improved over time, and the pup was getting more and subdued and quiet, mirroring his master. Deeks' social life had completely fizzled out; he even refused to see the team members when they came knocking with well-wishes and assorted hot meals. He even rejected Nell and her extra-nutty chocolate chip-nut cookies. And most upsetting of all, Deeks had given up on surfing. Instead, he got into running in a big way. Miles and miles on end. She couldn't figure that one out, no matter how much she tried. She always thought of surfing as Deeks' way of decompressing. But now, when she'd imagine he'd need that outlet most, he had completely abandoned it, and it worried her._

_Beside her, Deeks was pulling away, throwing the sheets off of him, and getting up with rough, rigorous movements. "I don't need you commenting on my itinerary, Kensi." She sat up, watching him pulling up his sweat pants, searching the floor for his hoodie. _

"_I-I know, I'm not trying to-…"_

"_Yeah, sure sounds like you are!" With the last word, he grabbed his running shoes that lay by the door and was gone. She had fallen back onto the pillows, allowed one or two stray tears to escape from the corner of her eye, but no more. When the alarm on her phone beeped, she forced herself to get up, haphazardly make his (their?) bed, and lugged herself to work. She spent a long day working with the cookie-cutter Agent who was temporarily replacing Deeks, working on a relatively low profile case, feeling the guilt and hurt gnawing at her heart all the while. It was dark when she came home._

_He wasn't there._

_Her heart nearly gave in when she realized it. His running shoes weren't at the front door, or in his bedroom, or anywhere. Everything was exactly as she left it that morning. He hadn't come home._

_Panic gripped her heart. How many hours would that be? What if he ran and just kept running? What if he was somewhere in a ditch, dehydrated and dying, or hit by a car or something? Or-..?_

_She gathered herself, and called his number. No answer. She left a voicemail, and took a deep breath in and out. Okay. _Okay_ – he was probably fine. He was a cop. He knew how to handle himself. Even in his current state… he was probably fine, right?_

_She sat up with her phone in front of her, leaving voicemails every couple of minutes, waiting, hoping and praying for it to ring. _

_It was closing in on 3 AM when it did. She had fallen asleep on his bed with his furry throw wrapped around her and was startled awake when it started buzzing wildly, stuck to her cheek. She answered it quickly, pulse racing._

"_Hello? Deeks?"_

"_Uh, hello? Who is this?"_

"_This is Kensi Blye. Who is _this_?"_

"_Oh. Hi Miss Blye. I'm Joe, I'm a bartender. Your friend has been in my bar for a while now. Noticed him lying in a booth now as I was closing up." A badly-timed chuckle, which he quickly tried to cover with a cough. "Anyway, he's here passed out and needs someone to come pick him up. I found the phone on him and dialed them number that left twelve voice mails… figured you must be lookin' for him."_

"_Oh thank you, thank you! Where is the bar, I'm on my way?"_

_The bar was a dive, in a sketchy area. She wondered how Deeks had found this place; it was far from home, and out of the way of any of his usual jogging routes. The bartender was kind though, and helped her carry Deeks into the car. _

_As she drove home, her eyes kept darting to the image of him in the rear view mirror, lying on his back passed out in the back seat of her car. Tears gathered in her eyes. How had it come to this? If she was honest with herself, she had spent many sleepless nights imagining all the ways their relationship could become a reality. There was the "partners with privileges"-thing they had joked about for years… there was the typical accidental drunk night… But never in a million years would she had imagined this for them. Never had she imagined she'd be the one picking him up, passed out from desperately trying to drown an unbearable sorrow… She'd definitely never in her life thought that she'd be the type of girl who'd forgive him for everything he had said, every irrational action he had done, unconditionally. _

_As she pulled up into his driveway, she heard a long moan coming from the backseat – he was waking up. She was thankful – she really had no idea how she was going to lug his heavy body up the steps to his place. _

_She opened the door closest to his face, and heard him hiss as the cool night air hit him. "Shit." He groaned._

"_Yeah, I know. Insane amounts of alcohol does that." She helped him to sit up, slung one of his arms around her shoulder, took a good hold of him (careful to avoid his still-tender ribs) and helped him walk into his house and towards his bedroom. She helped him out of his shoes and shirt, and into bed. He fell asleep again almost instantly, but was looking pretty pale, so she made sure to place the bin from the bathroom by his bedside as precaution, and a glass of water and aspirin on the bedside table. Then she unhappily got under the comforter as well._

_She was struggling to fall asleep, when she felt him turn towards her and his arm snake around her waist._

"_I'm sorry." He whispered. "I'm sorry, Fern."_

_He hadn't called her Fern in the longest time. Even though she was still hurt and angry, she couldn't keep the smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth. She opened her eyes and turned her face to his. Big, wide, blue eyes stared back at her. They were hazy and glazed, but beautiful nonetheless…. They were _his _eyes. _

"_It's fine. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have pushed you." She hesitated, and the words came out soft and timid. "I love you."_

_He was silent for a bit and she was scared she blew it again. Pushed too hard. Messed their fragile, nonsensical half-relationship up completely. _

"_I can't imagine why. I'm such a mess, Kens. Why do you even put up with me? All the stuff I've said, the shit I've done since-... Even before all that, I was a train wreck. Any sane person would've run for the hills." _

_Her hand went to cup his cheek, lift her face so their eyes would meet again. "Call me crazy, I guess." _

_"I love you too." His voice was a shaky whisper now. "I love you. And I'm sorry that I can't show it properly right now." He leaned in and kissed her softly, and she melted. He held her close that night and they slept in each other's arms – a surprisingly amazing end to an anxious night. The morning was not nearly as enjoyable for Deeks – he did appreciate the thought of the bin by his bedside a lot, though._

X

"Hey, guys." Deeks strode into the bullpen like nothing was wrong. His hair was wet, as if he had just showered.

"Where have you been?" She asked.

"Went for a walk. Then hit the gym. Then showered."

She felt very stupid for not going to look. And very proud of him for some reason. "Your burger is cold."

She hid her smile when he picked it up and carried the paper bag to the little kitchenette in the corner and microwaved his meal. She saw Sam's eyes dart towards Deeks, and when they went to her she made sure to make a meaningful head movement, telling him "no".

Deeks only had three bites of his burger, but she still took it as a move in the right direction.

* * *

**Most of this fic was the flashback, but it was an important one, I think. Hope you guys are still enjoying the fic so far. Please review, I appreciate all opinions, constructive criticism, and ideas!**

**Much love, Zanny**


	4. Chapter 4

**Fallout: Chapter 4**

**Thanks for all lovely reviews, guys! **

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine**

* * *

Kensi's relief grew during the week, as Deeks seemed to handle his desk duty well. After pulling Sam aside and giving him a firm talking-to, she persuaded the large man to shut it for the time being. The result was a wonderfully uneventful week. No more confrontations, no dramatic exits or raised voices. Just boring paperwork, day in and day out. One minor, low-priority investigation, that Sam and Callen handled easily and quickly, leaving Deeks and herself (thanks to Hetty's silent all-knowingness) doing support work and phone-manning from HQ.

It was Saturday morning; after a much-needed night alone watching a soppy romance movie, dining on burgers and beer, and unwinding from the long week, the couple were sleeping in. Kensi was awakened by the bright Los Angeles sun pouring from the open curtains, onto her face. She squinted and rubbed at her eyes then reached and arm out beside her, searching for her lover. But instead of warm smooth skin, her fingers caught cold sheets. She sat up, pulling the sheets up with her, and looked around the room. Deeks was nowhere in sight. The familiar flares of panic were about to take flight, when she heard a clash coming from the kitchen, followed by a series of expletives. Thankful, she let a sigh escape her lips, and pulled herself up fashioning the sheet as a dress.

As expected, she found Deeks in his kitchen, juggling a bunch of pans.

"Morning." She greeted and he spun around with an adorable shocked expression.

"Oh damn. I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed. Did I wake you?"

"It's fine." She walked closer and encircled her arms around his slender waist. "You're in good mood this morning."

"Yeah, guess I just kind of woke up on the right side of the bed. Hey buddy!" He bent down and petted Monty, who had in the meantime ventured into the kitchen hearing all the activity, on the head. Kensi swore the mutt raised a questioning eyebrow. "Anyway, I've got pancakes on the stove. Coffee's on its way." Deeks was up at eye level with her again, and had a smile on his face. His fingers were playing with the seam of the sheet at her bust. "I was thinking maybe we can have a Saturday in. Finish up the pancakes and have breakfast in bed. Then maybe lunch in bed…"

This wasn't the Deeks Kensi had been dealing with these last six months. And no matter how much she wished it was so, how hard she prayed, silently, every night, she knew that this couldn't be real. Or at least not lasting. Then something crossed her mind. "Don't you have a therapy session today?"

Deeks shrugged and turned back to the stove to flip a pancake with practiced perfection. "I could play hooky this once. I've been feeling so much better lately, since going back to work. I've been sayin' from the start, that's all the therapy I need. Busy hands." He slid the pancake from the pan to a plate and turned off the stove. "Cinnamon and sugar, or syrup?"

Instead of replying, she hugged him from the back, stilling his actions.

"I'm really glad you're feeling better," She said, her voice soft, and kissed a freckle on his bare shoulder. "I really am. And as much as I absolutely love your idea… I think maybe you should go."

He stilled beneath her touch. "Seriously, Kens. I'm in a really good mood today; I don't want to ruin it by talking about my childhood, and my feelings, and-…" He cleared his throat, and reached forward to pick two coffee cups off the shelf above him. The action simultaneously shrugged her arms off of him. "I've been going to these things every couple of days, ever since I woke up. I've went to every one thusfar, co-operated real nice, looked at all the ink blots and everything. Can't I just have one proper day away from all that shit… me and you?" He turned to face her and she was looking into the sultry blue eyes of a version of Deeks she knew too well. Undercover Deeks – the Seducer. Man, was he good at that. She had spent years developing an iron-clad defence against his charms (he loved to whip them out of nowhere in the middle of banter), but now – knowing the feeling of his lips on hers, the comfort of his touch – hell, her knees turned to jelly every time. It took all of her strength not to fall for it. Fall into his arms, let him kiss her senseless and carry her away to the warm, secluded world of his (their?) bed. Where there was no drama; no tension in the workplace because of unresolved conflict; no turbulent emotions and New or Old versions of anyone.. Where they could just be a normal couple.

"I know." She whispered; their lips brushed, he was so close. It almost did her in all over again. "I know, you've been working really hard and how well you're doing is testament to that. And I'm so happy and proud of you. But skipping sessions is like a slippery slope… I've had this conversation before."

She bit her lip and her eyes dropped as the memories came flooding back. That happened all the more often these days. And she remembers it like yesterday – one day, a bright moment, then back down into the spiral of anger and hatefulness and depression all over again. Then, she was too young, too naïve, to properly deal with it. She believed the horrible things he said to her, blamed herself whenever he went back to the dark place. When Nate, after speaking to Deeks after he woke, confirmed he was suffering from PTSD she promised she'd be better this time. Stronger. And that meant that in moments like these she couldn't let Deeks skip sessions on "better" days, like Jack did. Because skipping on "better" days, turned to skipping on "okay" days, and skipping altogether. And then there gets to be less and less "better" days.

"Please, Marty." She swallowed. New Deeks wasn't easily manipulated, but she knew he still loves her. He knew how much Jack leaving hurt her, scarred her. She never really knew what to expect from Deeks in situations like this anymore. She hoped it was enough.

There was a tense pause and Deeks sighed and slowly nodded. "Yeah, okay. Fine, I get that. You're right, I should probably… probably not go there." There was a crooked quirk at his lips and she couldn't help mirroring it herself.

"However…" She drawled, letting her fingers languidly drag through his hair. "We do seem to have a couple of hours to kill before your therapy session." She pressed herself tightly against him and wiggled, as the tie at her bust holding up the sheet loosened. "Got any ideas, Detective?"

X

"So how are you doing today, Martin?"

His shrink, Doctor Ericson, was a slender redheaded woman who always wore her hair in a tight bun and pursed her lips when she was psycho-analyzing him. She was pretty enough, but it was hard to be objective with the taste of Kensi Blye's cinnamony sweet kiss on his lips. Initially he struggled with her; there were a bunch of little things about her that irked him a bit, like how she persistently called him by his full first name, no matter how many times he corrected her. And the lips-pursed thing. He had actually lost his temper over that once or twice… But at the core of the problem, probably because he had just started to actually open up with Nate. A former member of the team, Nate at least knew the ins and outs of what they did; he had a context. But he had to go back to whatever top secret mission Hetty had him on, so he referred him to this lady. A specialist in PTSD, the plaque by the door to her office said. But Deeks knew that a letter from this therapist was the only way that he would be able to get back to work, even with Hetty's greatest efforts. With that motivation, he had actually tried to open up despite his previous and current defenses.

"I've been doing good." Deeks replied with a smile. "Excellent actually. Best day in a long, long time. Had a restful sleep last night, all the way through without waking up. First one in a while… Had breakfast with my partner."

"You are spending a lot more time with your partner recently?" Doctor Ericson said. "I've noted you're mentioning spending time with her all the more."

Deeks pulled the corners of his mouth downwards. He hadn't told her, or Nate, or anybody, about his and Kensi's change in relationship. "You could say that." The doctor raised an eyebrow and he felt defensiveness rise up inside of him. "She's… dealt with something similar in the past. A previous relationship. So she's helping me a lot. To help distract me when I'm thinking about it too much; motivate me. I actually almost didn't come this morning cause I was feeling so much better, but she reminded me not to go down that track."

The woman before him nodded slowly and scrabbled something down on her notepad. "Alright, how about we pick up where we left out last time. We were talking about your childhood; specifically your relationship with your father…"

Deeks sighed heavily and swung his legs up over the couch, lying down.

X

_The door creaked open and stomping footsteps echoed through the hallway. Marty's head snapped up; he hadn't heard a car pull up to the house or anything. _

_Shit, shit, shit…_

"_EM! EMILY! Shit…" There was a load crashing sound. His father had walked into something, the mangy armchair in the living room probably. A couple more crashes, like drunken kicks to an already half-broken piece or furniture Marty heard a whimper coming from the room next to his, his mother. Frightened, just by those sounds. He heard sluggish, off-beat footsteps stumble closer down the hallway. Stopping, and scratching noise like metal on metal. The eleven year-old boy's blood rang cold in his veins. He was taking the shotgun off its perch by the mantle. That's been a new development lately. He'd grown used to the yelling, the hitting, the kicking… But lately he's been taking out grandpa's old shotgun. Last time he even fired a shot. Straight into the wall. It was harder to explain away to the police when they came knocking with another noise complaint. But Marty's heart was beating a million miles a second, and he heard the words of every social worker he's spoken to echo in his mind: it's just going to escalate until you make it stop. It's just going to escalate…_

_They had wanted him to admit to it, to talk. But he couldn't do that. He was all his mother had, and he knew she'd never leave his father. He had asked her; he had begged her. And she always promised, but she never did. So now he had to step up and really be the man of the house; he had to stop this himself. His fingers, crooked from a couple ugly breaks, ran across the long scar that ran across his eyebrow. It still stung, still burned, and the impatient nurse at the free clinic didn't stitch it up properly, grumbling about kids and their skateboards, so it was still gaping open at the top edge. His hand dropped from his face to the smooth, black exterior of the gun lying beside him on the bed. He picked it up. It was heavy, felt weird in his hand. Wrong. But at the same time, as he clutched to the cool, metal object, it gave him a head rush. Like he was holding his salvation and his damnation at the same time._

_He heard his father getting closer, grumbling out expletives as he went. A loud, terrifying sound that sounded terribly like the cocking of a shotgun. Now was the time to make the decision. _

_As he heard his mother failing to swallow a cry, he made the decision he'd been struggling with so long in that split second. He grabbed the gun and sprinted out. He opened his parent's bedroom door, finding his father standing before her, drunk as all hell and making a lot of noise and pointing the shotgun with terrifying accuracy. His mother saw him first and her eyes stretched out with terror. She didn't say anything, didn't want his father to notice him, but shook her head at him trying to tell him to just go to his room. Then his father turned his head. Hard blue eyes – the mirror of his own, just angrier and clouded and less terrified – locked on the small, skinny blonde boy. He turned his back to his wife, and that made Marty feel immense relief already. But the dangerous look in his father's eyes made that relief quickly fade and get replaced by panic._

"_What, you gonna shoot me boy?" _

_His father was walking closer. His shotgun wasn't even raised, it was held loosely in his hand. Marty's hands shook. Practicing shooting cans in the junk yard with Ray did nothing to make him feel prepared for this. _

_Gordon chuckled low and sinister. " Course you're not. You're a stupid kid. A little piece of shit. Not worth nothin', not ever gonna be worth nothin'. Just like your mother. You stupid little piece of shit, you don't even know what to do with that thing!" Marty's hands couldn't stop shaking; he felt warm tears streak down his cheeks and he couldn't even fully register it, much less try and control it. His father was losing control now, and his mother was trying to pull herself up to her feet._

"_Gordy please, he's just a child." Her voice was so timid and soft, if Marty didn't know it as her catchphrase by now he might not have caught it. She would've been fine had she not placed a hand on her husband's shoulder. This seemed to set him off on a whole new level of hysteria. His father was on a full-on drunken rampage now; he yelled at her with newfound violence, raised his free hand and slapped her hard, sending her falling down by Marty's feet with a cry. Then he took the shotgun in his hand and aimed it._

_A shot rang out with deafening loudness and then everything kind of stopped. Marty only realized that the shot had come from his gun when his father stumbled back, an expression of disbelief and anger on his face, and thin white line of smoke rising from the barrel. _

X

"I'm exhausted." Deeks slammed the door as he entered his apartment in a fever.

Kensi, who was sitting on his couch with her laptop out, looked up at him. "Hey. You okay?"

"Fine." He made a beeline to his bedroom, throwing his messenger bag down on the coffee table on the go, and closed the door behind him.

Kensi swallowed. She should've just let him play hooky.

Hours passed and Deeks hadn't woken up from his afternoon nap. Kensi had ordered in some Thai food for dinner, but the sweet scents didn't lure him out of bed. Knowing that fits depression was part of the ups and downs of his PTSD, and that it was probably brought on by a trying session, she let him have his rest. She was enjoying her dinner while watching a cheesy reality show, when she heard the screaming. She immediately dropped the box of food and instinctively went for her gun, before she realized that it was Deeks' voice that was crying out from the bedroom. She shot up and ran to him.

She found Deeks tossing and turning on the bed; he had kicked the comforter off the bed and the sheets were crumpled up at his feet, and still his T-shirt, hair and his pillow was wet with sweat. He was kicking, punching with his arms, and periodically crying out. She had seen this before; Jack had had nightmares like this routinely. But she had not yet witnessed it with Deeks. If he had been having nightmares, it had never been this violent before, and he had been doing a hell of a job keeping it from her.

The sight of Deeks vulnerable and terrified was heart breaking and upsetting and made her stall for a second in the doorway. After a beat, she sprung herself into action and went to sit on the mattress beside him. She took hold of his shoulders and braced him against the mattress with her arms. "Deeks! Deeks!" She said, loud enough but gently. "Marty, please. Wake up, you're having a nightmare! Wake up!"

Deeks' eyes fluttered wildly as he started to wake up. He was panting heavily, and his skin was warm and moist beneath her touch. "K-Kens…"

"Hey." She whispered. "It's alright… You were having a nightmare, but it's alright now."

He nodded.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No." He shook his head. "No, just-… just forget it, okay?"

She paused, but finally nodded. "Yeah, that's okay. You don't have to talk about it. Can I, uh… Can I get you some water, or tea or whatever?" He shook his head, and sat up, hands in his hair. "Okay, can I change the sheets? We can lie down a bit. Together."

"Just leave me, Kens, okay?" He stood up and started going through his closet, pulling out his sweats and running shoes. "I think I'm gonna go for a run."

"It's pretty late. It's dark out."

"I'll be fine." He quickly shed his clothes and put on his exercise attire, and fast-walked away. "Don't wait up."

Kensi heard the front door crash close and she startled at the noise of it. Tears were falling before she could stop them.

* * *

**Okay then… hope you guys enjoyed that. I apologize for any inaccuracies; I am by no means an expert on PTSD. I'm working from general knowledge and Google knowledge and whatnot. I really hope I'm not doing too badly and offending anybody. This was a bit of a longer wait for this chapter – I have no excuse, inspiration was just slow. I hope a slightly longer chapter makes up for it. **

**I only have one week of vacation left before it's back to work. I'm gonna try to update during term and finish as much as I can, but I fear there might be a hiatus in this fic's future. Thanks to all for continuous support and feedback; as always, I greatly appreciate all reviews, comments, ideas and constructive criticism! **

**Much love, Zanny**


	5. Chapter 5

**Fallout: Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine**

* * *

The next day was Sunday. Kensi, after a night of pacing, trying to contain her tears and failing, and eventually falling asleep due to complete emotional exhaustion, woke up with a start. The sun was pale and had just risen. Kensi's entire body was sore and she had the most horrible headache.

She got up to get a glass of water, and found Deeks fast asleep on the couch. She walked closer to him and sat on the coffee table beside him. His face was calm in his sleep, and completely still. If they were in any other position, Kensi knew she would be livid at Deeks for refusing to talk to her and running out like that. But right now she was just grateful he was here, that she wasn't picking him up at some random bar again. She felt a warmness towards him despite everything now, and she felt herself smiling down at his sleeping form. She reached to the blanket that was draped over the backrest of the couch and tucked him in. Then she gently stroked his blonde locks, softly as not to wake him up. For the millionth time, she yearned for simpler times.

Deeks stirred in his sleep and Kensi took that as her cue to get up. She went about the usual weekend morning chores; laundry, dishes…

Deeks woke up just past twelve. He sat up and groaned, looked around and found his partner (roommate? Lover? Girlfriend?) sitting the kitchen island, open to the living room, drinking a cup of coffee. She met his eye and offered a gentle smile. "Wanna cup? It's good."

"No thanks." He rubbed his hands over his face. "Oh man, my head."

She walked towards him and put a pill box on table next to him. "Aspirin."

He looked up at her. "It's not a hangover. I didn't drink last night. Just ran down the beach and back."

She nodded in reply and took another sip of her coffee.

"So, what do you feel like doing today?" He stood up and stretched languidly.

Kensi shrugged. "Dunno. I started on the laundry."

"I think I wanna go out today. To the, uh-…" She watched Deeks walk slowly around the coffee table to the hall closet. He opened the door, bent down and picked something up lying at thebottom of the closet. He held it up to her and revealed his flip-flops. "To the beach."

Kensi was smiling before she could try and contain herself. "Okay. Great."

X

The morning was cool; Los Angeles' usually bright blue sky was overcast with greyish clouds and a slow breeze blew. Consequently, the beach was fairly empty with only a couple of surfers spotting the sea far from the shore. And Deeks and Kensi, sitting tightly next to one another on a sand dune not far from where the waves were crashing.

Deeks was wearing a light blue hoodie, board shorts and flip flops (even though he seemed to have little motivation to go into the water), and he looked like himself for the first time in the longest time. His fingers were playing with the leaves of a tough little weed that had sprung up from the sand, and he had been completely quiet since their arrival almost an hour ago. Kensi was having a surprisingly hard time digesting the scene; with Deeks looking so much like his old self, at his favourite place, but acting so unlike himself. At first she told herself to just stay silent. Allow the salty sea air and everything to do its work; _calm _him and _heal _him, like it had always done before. But an hour of silence and pulling out weeds later, Deeks was still not speaking and still showing no sign of… _life._

She was just about to say something – suggest going for lunch maybe? - when Deeks spoke up.

"So… I wanna apologize."

Kensi drew in a breath. "It's alright, you don't have to do that."

"No, I do." His eyes were locked on the crashing waves, watching them fall, pull back, rise and fall again, like in a trance. "I hate this, Kens. I hate this vicious cycle. I hate that I have so little control over my feelings. I hate that I'm anxious all the time, and scared, and that I have nightmares… And therapy and the running and stuff, some days it helps, but most days I still feel like a mess. And the thing I hate most of all of this whole freaking mess is that I keep hurting you. I keep losing my temper and saying horrible things, or acting like an asshole and running out. I keep coming back with apologies like that makes it okay that I keep doing it."

"But it's not your fault-…"

"But it's not yours either!" He met her eyes now, with a sudden forceful movement, and took both her hands in his. She looked down at their hands – her fingers were shaking – and she slowly shook her head. "Kens, you shouldn't have to take the grunt for this."

"No, no, Deeks, please don't-…"

"Kens, I'm such a mess. You deserve better."

"Don't you dare leave me!" She raised her voice now. She saw his azure eyes, bright against the pale morning light, widen a bit. "Don't you do this. Not again, not _you_…" She gripped his hands tighter in hers. "Deeks, I love you. I've loved you as a partner, as a friend, and… I've loved you as the most important figure in my life for so, so long. You've taken care of me like I was yours to take care of every day of this partnership; you've made sure I'm not too hard on myself, that I take care of myself; you've made me smile, laugh. You've saved my life a million times, more times I could count, without receiving any credit. Or even a thank you from me most days. Now you're in this situation, and yes, it's hard and complicated and a lot of the time not fun. But I _want _to be here for you. Let me be here for you." She swallowed. "Let me take care of my partner." One hand went up to his cheek, feeling the soft and scruffy texture of his beard beneath her palm, gently caressing it. "And you've never considered this, but maybe I need to be here with you just as much as you need someone here."

Deeks' eyes moved down, then after a moment begrudgingly met hers again. "It could've been so different. It couldn't been so good. Had it not been for me and my-…"

She nodded slowly, and shifted herself impossibly closer to him, so that she was almost sitting in his lap with both her hands cupping his face. The moment was thick with tension and intimacy. "I know things are different now to what we maybe thought. But if it is, it is definitely not your fault. The thought that you would blame yourself, it breaks my heart. Marty, I'm not going to lie to you - sometimes I wonder too. What would've happened if I wasn't so scared to try before, if we had more time together, if-… if things went differently? I wonder sometimes too and it's natural and normal. But we can't mess up what's happening now because of what could've been if things were different. Where we are now – it's not perfect, okay? But seriously, Marty, when would anything between us ever have been moonlight and roses? But what makes us such great partners is that we bring out the best in each other, and all the little non-perfect things… they become perfect. Because it's you and me and we can overcome just about anything. Okay?"

He didn't reply; he just gently pulled his face from her hands and continued to stare ahead at the waves like he had before. Like he was in deep thought, digesting all she's said. After a couple of moments it became clear that Deeks wasn't going to reveal his thoughts to her any time soon, so Kensi made a decision. She pulled herself up and went to stand before him, stretching her hands down to him. He regarded her hands for a moment, and then gave her his, and she pulled him up to stand. She walked backwards ever so slowly, leading him step for step away from the dune and towards the shore where the waves were beating lazily to their divine rhythm. When the water began to slosh at her feet and she felt its icy coolness, she felt some resistance in the arms of her lover – a tightness in his forearms - but he allowed her to lead him further until they were ankle deep in ocean water. She pulled him close, into a hug, and placed her head on his chest. They stood there in the middle of the water; she couldn't tell if it were single minutes or stretching closer to an hour. All she knew was the beating of his heart against her ear, the heat of his body against her cheek, the warmth of his breath down her neck, and the salty sea breeze smell all around them. It used to cling to his skin like cologne, that smell.

"I don't know if I'm ever gonna be okay." He confided, a whisper against the shell of her ear. "Sometimes it feels like it runs so deep… Deeper than Sidirov. It feels like I'm too miserably broken; that there's no hope. You know I've always loved you. I don't want you to be trapped by guilt, or devotion, or whatever it is that motivates you to deal with me despite everything."

She craned her neck to meet his eye.

"What keeps me here is love, Marty. I wouldn't be anywhere else."

* * *

**So a little bit of fluff there, thought you guys deserve it after a long wait. Please review! I begin class next week so updates may become scarcer now and I'm afraid my muse is already becoming shy! I would very much appreciate any opinions, creative ideas, constructive criticism, or any form of feedback. **

**Much love, **

**Zanny**


	6. Chapter 6

**Fallout: Chapter 6**

**Hi guys. I know. I know, I know, I know. I feel really bad for taking forever to update, but I've been really super busy with school and the creative juices ran dry like solidly. Please take this extra long chapter filled with happenings and emotional moments as an apology and forgive me! I am not going to abandon this fic – I'm determined to keep going, even if it does take a while for me to update and finish it. I really hope I didn't lose too many readers because of the delay, because I can't promise I'll be able to update sooner from now on. Anyway… Sorry for the long author's note. Here goes chap 6.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

Things went well for a week or so. Deeks had finally seemed to accept that Kensi was there to stay and that she wanted to be there, and they were doing relatively well. Deeks' therapy sessions were bringing forth a lot of buried emotions about his past, and he was having the nightmares more frequently, but he had stopped trying to hide them from Kensi. The previous couple of nights, when he woke up with a start in a cold sweat, he had found her sitting next to him on the mattress, holding him by his trembling shoulders with a gentle reassuring smile, and a mug of warm milk by his bedside. And though it hurt his pride somewhat that she had to seem him in such a vulnerable place, he was beginning to make peace with it. There was no one in the world he trusted more than his partner, and he appreciated her even if he couldn't completely put that appreciation into words at the moments.

On a Tuesday afternoon, Deeks was sitting alone in the bullpen, working on some paperwork. A relatively high profile case had come up, and the team was out in the field. Kensi too, despite heavy protest, was pulled in to do some surveillance work. She had been reluctant to leave her partner alone with the benign paperwork, but she was sorely needed and he insisted she go.

"Detective Deeks."

Deeks couldn't stop the startled jerk of his shoulders when the voice of their own private ninja broke the stark silence of the bullpen. As was habit at this point, he composed himself in record time, playing his reaction off as nothing happened. He looked up and saw the deceivingly diminutive woman standing before him, looking at him with soft, concerned eyes behind her round spectacles.

"Something I can help you with, Hetty?"

"Could I speak to you in my office, please?"

He followed her to the privacy of her office.

"Detective Deeks, it's been a month that you've been back with us on restricted duty, am I correct?" Seeing his expression brightening, Hetty quickly raised a hand. "Unfortunately I do not believe you are quite prepared to go back to the field just yet. But I want you to know that I am pleased to hear from your therapist that your progress is extraordinary."

"You've spoken to my therapist?" His arms crossed his chest.

"Nothing personal, I assure you. Your doctor-patient confidentiality remains quite intact. Despite my best attempts." Deeks couldn't help the crooked half-smile from appearing at that, and his near-typical response clearly pleased Hetty. "I also observe that you and Miss Blye have been spending quite some time together. More than you had before."

"Kensi has been a great help to me, yes. Is there a problem with that?"

Hetty shrugged. "There is certainly no problem with receiving support from a friend. Especially if said friend has experience in what you are specifically dealing with, like Miss Blye has. I would just press to you that, at the point where you return to the team on full duty – and you will – that this new level of your and Miss Blye's… _friendship… _should not be detrimental to your ability to work together as a team. I believe that there should be some more emotional investment on both your parts."

Hetty knew. _Of course _Hetty knew. Deeks was tempted to roll his eyes at it, but didn't. "It won't, Hetty. Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

"One more thing." She moved behind her desk and fingered the edges of a stack of folders, seemingly searching out a specific one. "I have been informed that there has been put into place a new office within the NCIS. One specifically aimed at rehabilitating agents who have been diagnosed with PTSD to get back to our very specific line of work. Re-introduce them to firing a weapon, working in high pressure situations, and so on. It has shown some great results on its trial run last year, and I believe it will be quite beneficial for you to take part in it."

Deeks slowly nodded. "But..?"

"But, as I've said, it's aimed at rehabilitating _agents_. And technically, you are not an agent." She pulled out a folder from the stack, and slid it across her desk to where Deeks was standing. "So I would like to make you an offer. Again." She smiled up at him. "Deeks, this is your home. And though it might not have always felt that way, we have always known you as part of our team – of our family. I trust you know that we would never abandon you in your time of need."

Navy blue eyes were rigged at the manila folder on the desk beside him. "Did you take that off my desk, Hetty?"

She shrugged and didn't answer. Just smiled her knowing little smile.

"Can I think about it?" Deeks asked.

"Of course. Just don't think too long." She picked up the folder and handed it to him. "Don't put it out in the open on your desk again, Mister Deeks. If you want some time to privately mull it over, I suggest a locked drawer."

With a quick half-smile, Deeks headed back to his desk. He sat and slowly swivelled from side to side in his chair, reading over the contract for what must've been the millionth time. His eyes swept over Hetty's signature inscribed at the bottom of the page with a flourish in black ink.

Deeks' reverie was broken when he heard heavy, quick footsteps approaching. Sam and Callen, back from interrogating the main suspect in the boathouse. Quickly he slid the document back into its folder and placed it within his top drawer. After a moment of hesitation, he locked it, just as the two men strode into the office.

"Hey guys." He greeted blandly. Callen didn't reply and made a beeline for Hetty's office. Sam went to stand by his desk and nodded as means of greeting. After a small awkward pause, Deeks went back to typing up the report on his computer.

The two men were alone now, for the first time in a while. Usually, Kensi was at Deeks' side 24/7, especially since Sam tried to bring up the incident a couple weeks back. But now Kensi was gone. And Callen was yelling at Hetty for reasons over some or other mystery. And the guilt that had been eating away at Sam for months was burning in his chest. He couldn't stay silent any longer.

"Deeks. We need to talk."

"'Bout what?"

Sam drew a breath. "You know about what. I know it's hard and you don't want to, but… I've got to say it, man. Please."

Deeks stopped typing; once again, he felt the anger rise up inside of him. He had been working so hard to keep it contained, to try and get back to the man he used to be. But it was difficult, especially when he had to confront those memories every day. Deeks grinded his teeth and looked up at Sam. The look on Sam's face gave him pause; he looked genuinely upset. And for a moment, Deeks gathered himself just enough to slowly nod.

"Listen… I said some horrible things to you that day. About the cop I thought you were, and the man I thought you were… I was an idiot, Deeks. I don't know why I said it. Maybe it was the pressure or something that got to me and I lashed out at the easiest target. But there's no excuses, what I said was cruel and I had no right."

Deeks was sorely tempted to agree with him. But he knew that if he opened his mouth, he'd say something he'd regret. So he nodded, and kept his eyes rigged on the bright computer screen before him.

Sam continued on. "I talk a lot of big talk about loyalty and being in a team. And I had judged you and underestimated you, and you blew all of what I said out of the water that day…" He drew a hesitant breath. "I never thanked you. You saved me. More importantly, you saved Michelle, someone you barely knew. And it… it takes a strong man to do that. It takes a strong character. I appreciate that more than I can put into words. And I want you to know… I know now that I was wrong about you. You are a damn good cop. But more than that, you're a damn good man, Marty."

After a couple of long-winded seconds of silence, Deeks finally looked up. "Thanks, man." He cleared his throat. "I've been at this desk forever, I think I'm gonna go, uh… climb the wall or something."

He got up, and as he passed Sam gave him a slap on the shoulder.

X

Still somewhat uneasy with his feelings about Sam's confession, and his shoulder hurting from trying to climb the wall too fast, Deeks headed to his lunchtime therapy session across town. Doctor Ericson was waiting for him with her little red bun on top of her head, her pursed lips painted a dark maroon today.

"Good morning, Martin. How are you today?"

Deeks sighed as he sat down on her couch with a plop.

"Not great, actually."

She made a note.

"Is there something specific wrong?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Just an eventful day is all. Sam and I spoke."

"About the incident?"

"Yes. About the incident."

"And how did you handle it?"

Deeks paused, deciding on an adequate reply. "I think well. I didn't get angry. Or, rather, I didn't shout or anything. I still felt angry, I just… kept my cool. I didn't walk away this time."

Doctor Ericson smiled and made a note. "You can be proud of yourself, Martin. You're progress is excellent. Has Miss Lange spoken to you yet about-..?"

"About the PTSD programme? Yeah, today."

"How do you feel about that?"

"The programme seems fine. I mean I want to ultimately get back in the field, and if that's the way to do it then I'll do it. But, the thing is…"

Her sharp eyes looked up at him, silently urging him to continue. Deeks sighed. "I'm a cop, right? That's who I am, that's my identity. I was a good one too, no matter what everyone else thought. I did my job, I did it well. Even when it wasn't easy. And it's a lot to give up, it's always been. Especially now."

"Why especially now?"

Deeks hesitated. "I don't know why especially now. Just… it feels harder now."

"Do you think it might be pertaining to the team? Do you not trust them the way you used to, since your incident?"

"I trust Kensi." Deeks said, softly. "I've always trusted Kensi. I feel guilty for making her deal with who I am now. What I am now. But she doesn't seem to care. We talked about it the other night, and it's like she doesn't even care. She just wants to help me. I don't really understand that. Coming from her. It's not how I know her. Not to say she's not caring or whatever, she's just always been so wary of getting close to people. Especially me. And now it's like she's my 24 hour caretaker. And I appreciate it; I know it comes from a good place. But I feel like I'm compromising her somehow. Do you get what I mean?"

Doctor Ericson nodded. "I understand. But to me it sounds like she really loves you."

Sensing the conversation was taking a dangerous route, Deeks quickly nodded and replied. "She's my best friend. I suppose she feels obligated to me."

The doctor made another note.

"And what about the rest of the team, other than Kensi? You mentioned that you and Agent Hanna had a conversation today about the incident."

He felt the warm anger bubble up inside his chest again, the heat rising up his neck. "That's just a mess. Damn, it's a mess. I mean… I get where he's coming from. He's sorry, he talked some crap about me being a bad cop and then I saved his wife and he feels guilty."

"You feel his apology was insincere?"

"I think he apologized to sooth his conscience. Sam never really respected me. I don't think he ever will. I'm not military; I just don't _go. _I never will, I suppose."

"Do you think you're hesitation in joining the team as an agent may be because you're still angry with Agent Hanna? Angry with the team, for not treating you as an equal all that time?"

"Maybe it's part of that." Deeks swallowed. "I'd never been part of a team before. Hell, I'd never even been part of a family before. My father was a monster, and he was beating my mother from way before I was born. I don't even have a single happy memory from my childhood... At the LAPD I had a partner once in a blue moon, but mostly I was working alone. I work best on my own. And when I have partnerships, they tend to… implode. Kensi… she's the greatest partner I could've asked for. I mean, she's competent; she's really, really good at her job. She's fun to be around. She's my best friend. I lo-…" He cleared his throat. "I really do appreciate her, and after talking to her I don't think I'm gonna be able to push her away. Not anymore. Since I've been back, I've been a mess – up and down, sending all kinds of mixed signals, I'd imagine. On the bad days… Well, you know. It gets pretty damn bad. But she's too damn stubborn to take the hint. I guess I'm afraid that if I stick around here… if I'm _really _part of the team, part of the family or whatever, if I'm an agent… That it'll implode too."

He sighed heavily.

"Look, I trust my partner. She's proven herself, I guess. I'm not sure about the rest of them."

X

"Are you out of your mind?!" She was yelling now, yelling at Sam to the point where her throat was scratching. They were alone in the gym, where she had dragged him with a ferocious anger when she returned from her surveillance duty to find Deeks' desk empty and Sam with a telling look of discomfort on his face. "I _told _you, Sam! He's not ready to have that conversation. How selfish could you possibly be, throwing him back into that memory just to sooth your guilt?"

"Look, Kens…" He approached her, hands open as if in surrender. She slapped away his outstretched hand with violent energy.

"If he runs again…" Her voice was shaking with emotion. "Damn it, Sam, if I lose him because of this…"

"You won't. After the conversation, he was fine."

Kensi swallowed. "What do you mean, 'fine'?"

"He didn't yell. He didn't get angry. He didn't run away."

"Then where the hell is he?"

"He's at his therapists'. He's got a lunchtime session, remember?"

Kensi sighed, ran a hand wearily through her hair. "Right. Okay, tell me exactly what happened. Exactly what you said."

"I apologized. For some of the stuff I said to him. I mean, you heard through the com, right? I was an ass, and I said sorry. And I thanked him for saving Michelle. That was it. He seemed okay. He came here to the gym and climbed the wall for a bit, then he went to therapy. No scene."

Kensi let out a shaky breath. She didn't know what Deeks' reaction meant. If it was a good sign, or the calm before a storm. What she _did _know was that Sam did exactly what she told him not to do. And she was scared. Her eyes were welling up and she couldn't stop it. She hated that this kept happening to her; she was Kensi Blye, she was tough and strong and supposed to be _Wonder woman_, and she couldn't stop crying like a little girl. She felt Sam's arms coming around her and hugging her tightly against his broad chest as the sobs broke through. After a while, she managed to compose herself, and pulled away, still sniffling away the last of her tears.

"He'll be back in a couple of minutes." Sam said, his voice gentle.

"I should go wash my face." She said, pulling a lock of hair that was stuck to her wet cheek away. "He shouldn't see me like this." She turned to go to the locker rooms, and turned back to face Sam one last time before she went in. "I get why you said what you said. I wish you would've listened to me though. Things were just getting to be better…"

X

When Kensi returned from the ladies' locked room, no evidence of her episode on her face, barring the fact that her face was no void of the little make up she had on before, she found Deeks' back at his desk, diligently typing away at some report. Sam and Callen were back at the boathouse interrogating, but had reported back that the suspect was clamming up. When quitting time arrived, Hetty allowed them to go home and get some rest; the case would be waiting for them the next morning.

The couple silently walked together down to Kensi's SUV that was parked in the underground parking lot.

Once they got in the car, Kensi turned to him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Kens." He didn't look at her though, and she felt a sadness press down on her. She turned back and started the car. Deeks looked at her and saw the look on her face. He did something that surprised her; he reached out his hand and put it over hers on the clutch. She looked up and caught his eye. "Really, partner. I'm fine." His intensely blue gaze and the warmth of his palm against the back of her hand coerced a pretty smile from her. "I've been fine. Well, relatively." A small, humourless chuckle. "I hope you know that that's because of you. And I know it. So… thank you. You're one of the only people I trust in this world fully. I love you."

Her heart raced. He had said before that he'd "always loved her"; that he "fell in love with her" before everything fell apart. Somehow hearing it in the present tense made a different kind of happiness burst inside her. A pleasant warmth spread through her veins and she manoeuvred her hand to interlace their fingers and squeeze his reassuringly.

"I love you too. So much."

In the privacy of her SUV, she leaned over and kissed him deeply.

* * *

**Okayy… So I hope that made up for the delay. Some pretty big moments in there, including the whole 'Deeks becoming an agent'-debacle, the talk with Sam (I'm not letting him get off lightly, at the insistence of my lovely reviewers), and just a tad of Densi fluffiness hidden in there. Please review and let me know what you guys think so far, and if you have any twists and turns plot-wise that you'd like me to incorporate. Always up for fresh ideas.**

**Much love, **

**Zanny**


	7. Chapter 7

**Fallout: Chapter 7**

**Special thanks to anonymous reviewer Tim for the amazing suggestions in his review – definitely helped to inspire me for this chapter. Apologies to all my readers for the extra long wait… **

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine**

* * *

Sometimes it takes nothing at all for a day to be bad.

Kensi had known this from her experience with Jack years ago, and the fact was confirmed by what happened that cool Saturday evening, weeks after the tense afternoon after Sam and Deeks' talk.

Kensi wiped furiously at her the tears that kept falling from her reddened eyes. She had to stop crying already; it was becoming an actual hazard, the longer she was speeding down the road with tear-blurred vision. There was no logical reasoning for the fight happening. Things have been okay. No, actually; things have been great. Deeks went to his meetings with therapist consistently, and seemed to be dealing with the emotional fallout of it all much better; the tension between him and Sam (though not totally resolved) has tampered down to only slightly awkward; and Kensi and Deeks had taken to taking long jogs along the beach together. Little by little, Kensi was getting parts of the old Deeks back in her life.

Then the fight happened.

X

_He'd been kinda gloomy all day... not grumpy, but the explosion came all at once. Out of nowhere._

"_Kensi, I-I just need…" He rose up from where they both sat on the couch. His shoulders were tensed, and he held his arms out as if to make space. "I just don't need this right now. I just need to be alone." He paced around the table, towards the kitchen, then turned to face her again. "You know what?"_

"_What?" She was utterly confused at his outburst. _

"_I, I-I… I just need some space right now. I don't why I can't ever get a moment alone anymore. It's like I'm the crazy basket case that can't be trusted for a freaking second without his babysitter, or I'm gonna stick my head in the oven or something. Well, I've been alone all my life; I've been taking care of myself for twenty years, all by myself, and I didn't need any of this before. No therapist, no-…"_

"_No me?" That stung. After months of taking care of him, of rubbing his back after seeing him wake up in cold sweats after nightmares, of putting up with the mood swings and the depression and the heartbreaks of thinking things were getting better and then having the rug pulled out from under her… and then hearing that. "So you don't need me, huh? You don't want me here in your life? You're a big boy, you can take care of yourself?" _

"_That's not-… Kensi, do you even see what's going on here? Do you think that if you saw yourself now, like, two years ago, you would recognize yourself? Sitting on couch on a Saturday night in sweats, taking care of me day in and out like I'm an emotional invalid? Isn't this exactly what you promised yourself you would never do again, ever? You can't tell me you're even remotely happy."_

_She scoffed. "What are you even going on about? No, I guess I didn't think two years ago this would be where I'd be at, but-…"_

"_See!" He turned on his heel and walked off towards his room. _

_And heat started rising to Kensi's cheeks as a vision of those _damned _running shoes of his, and the thought of him running away again. And she lost control._

"_No!" She rose up with an angry energy and sped off after him. She found him in his room, half-bending down and reaching to where his running shoes were laying by the foot of the bed. She ran closer and kicked it out of his reach. "You can't keep running away, Deeks. Jeez, every time I think it's going better, this happens! Every time it feels like we're getting even remotely back to normal, like we can actually have a real relationship, everything just blows up! You know, you're right, Deeks. This isn't easy on me, and this isn't what I wanted. I told myself years ago, after Jack, that I'd never let myself get into a position like this again. Care that much… But here I am, going through it all again, and-"_

"_Well, there you go! I'm dead right then, aren't I? So why don't you just leave?"_

"_Why don't I?" She turned on her heel, grabbed her keys and phone off the coffee table, and did exactly that._

X

Another sob broke away from her, and Kensi sniffled as she pulled the car over next to a 7-eleven. She can't believe she reacted that way. She had prided herself on how patient, supportive and caring she'd been with Deeks up to now. Like how he used to be with her, before. But she wasn't like Old Deeks – she was just the same Old Kensi. Impatient and aggressive and temperamental. She says impulsive things to her boyfriend who she known has PTSD, and walks out on him.

She laid her head on her crossed arms on the steering wheel and let all of the built-up feelings that have been held under tight control for the last year pour out. The fear of losing him, and losing what they could potentially have; the hurt from the cruel words he says when things got bad; the frustration with how much he'd changed; the irrational anger, at him, and herself, at Sam, at the _world._ It all came tumbling out, and she cried and cried until all she felt was the thumping heat of her head.

For the first time since they started this, Kensi wondered if they could actually make it work. If their love would be enough to withstand it all. She didn't know if she would ever get him back again. She knew it was naïve and she was too old, smart and world-weary to believe such a bedtime story – but she couldn't help the images from seeping into her dreams on the good days. The images of a future for them. Of the little bleach blonde-mopped kids, a girl and a boy, with her eyes and his smile, running around their backyard. Screaming for Daddy to look how fast they can run. And Deeks' warm arms wrapping around her waist from behind, his soft lips tickling her earlobe as he lovingly kissed her there and whispered sweet nothings into her ear.

How cruel was the universe? For years she put work first, not even having (or necessarily wanting) a relationship with a lifespan exceeding more than a couple of dates. And then he walks into her life with his stupid baby blues and his stupid crooked smile and his stupid good heart… How could she not fall in love? And after a good three years of denying heavily that there was anything more than annoyance and friendship there, he _finally_ kisses her and makes her confront those feelings. They had so much potential… No, not even potential. She _knew _they would've been great.

But now?

She was exhausted. Deeks was right – she could barely recognize herself. Not that she regretted a single decision she'd made since Deeks returned. She loved him with all she had, and would a million times over always choose to be the one there to support him. But it was hard on her as well. And it hurt – a lot. Had she reached her threshold for patience and understanding? She was human too… was she just not strong and good enough?

Kensi wiped one last time at her reddened eyes and unlocked her car door, and headed to the 7-eleven to seek comfort in the arms of an old friend – a Twinkie.

As the car locked behind her the screen of her phone, lying on the floor on the passenger side, buzzed and lit up with the face of the man who was still very much on her mind.

X

Deeks was sitting on carpeted floor of his bedroom; his forearms on his knees, his head in his arms, his phone to his ear.

Voicemail again. That's the third time.

_This is Kensi Blye. Leave a message after the tone and I'll get back to you as soon as I can._

"Kens…" His voice was shaking and watery, and his breath was heavy. He hated how pathetic he was sounding, but he _was _right now. He was angry at himself, _furious_, and completely and utterly stricken with fear. What an idiot he was, going off like that… "It's me again. Listen, Kens, I know this is like the third message, but you need to hear me out. I'm sorry… I-I'm _so _sorry, I can't even… I shouldn't have gone off like that. I don't know why I-I… I think it's because of something that came up the other day in therapy, and it's been on my mind now for a while, but… I don't want to make excuses." He drew a deep breath. "I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you. I need you… I need you so much. And I was an asshole and an idiot and a liar for suggesting anything less. I-I'll try harder, I-…"

There was a tone, signifying that his message had been cut off.

He let a watery sigh break free.

What an idiot pushes away the one person in the world he was still close to? "Close to" didn't even begin to cover it… He loved Kensi; he always had, since the very beginning. He'd been intrigued by the Tracy the sexy, suspicious drug dealer; he'd been smitten with Fern the tight-ass, stunningly beautiful Special Agent; and he'd fallen deeply in love with Kensi Blye, his partner, best friend, and the woman he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life annoying. Why-… _WHY _did this have to happen? They were on the brink of something serious, something _real, _when he kissed her on the hill. They were just on the precipice of being a real couple. And then this happens, and his head is all messed up, and he doesn't know if he's capable of all the things he had dreamt of for them…

Things had been so _good_; he'd tried so _hard_. But then the feelings of guilt and anger about _everything_ hit him like a hammer to the solar plexus out of nowhere… and he couldn't stop himself from blowing up.

And finally, after almost a year of perfect patience and understanding, of soothing his anger with kisses and not yelling back… Kensi reacted like the Kensi he knew.

He heard a whimpering sound by his door and lifted his head; Monty was peering at his master with big, brown, sad eyes. Deeks lifted his hand and Monty ran ahead to duck his little head under his daddy's hand.

"Hey there Monty." Deeks rubbed behind Monty's ears, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as the mutt sat down close to his master. "I'm sorry I've been distant… for a long time. And I'm sorry you had to hear that – the fight between me and Kens. She's probably more your master at this point than me… But don't worry, buddy… I'm gonna fix it. If it's the last thing I do…"

* * *

**Okay… I know it's been toooo long. And I'm breaking all my promises of not taking a lifetime to update. But I've decided it's best that I finish the fic sooner now. The next chapter will be the last, with an epilogue maybe at most. Thanks to everyone who continue to read and review despite my lameness – I really appreciate the support from the very sweet reviews that make my day every time. **

**Much love,**

**Zanny**


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